Портрет художника в юности
Chapter 5
Hismindwaswakingslowlytoatremulousmorningknowledge,amorninginspiration.Aspiritfilledhim,pureasthepurestwater,sweetasdew,movingasmusic.Buthowfaintlyitwasinbreathed,howpassionlessly,asiftheseraphimthemselveswerebreathinguponhim!Hissoulwaswakingslowly,fearingtoawakewholly.Itwasthatwindlesshourofdawnwhenmadnesswakesandstrangeplantsopentothelightandthemothfliesforthsilently.
Anenchantmentoftheheart!Thenighthadbeenenchanted.Inadreamorvisionhehadknowntheecstasyofseraphiclife.Wasitaninstantofenchantmentonlyorlonghoursandyearsandages?
Theinstantofinspirationseemednowtobereflectedfromallsidesatoncefromamultitudeofcloudycircumstancesofwhathadhappenedorofwhatmighthavehappened.Theinstantflashedforthlikeapointoflightandnowfromcloudoncloudofvaguecircumstanceconfusedformwasveilingsoftlyitsafterglow.O!Inthevirginwomboftheimaginationthewordwasmadeflesh.Gabrieltheseraphhadcometothevirgin’schamber.Anafterglowdeepenedwithinhisspirit,whencethewhiteflamehadpassed,deepeningtoaroseandardentlight.Thatroseandardentlightwasherstrangewilfulheart,strangethatnomanhadknownorwouldknow,wilfulfrombeforethebeginningoftheworld;andluredbythatardentrose-likeglowthechoirsoftheseraphimwerefallingfromheaven.